Unfortunately, I had to release JJ. I can't ignore her leaving, and too many authors have given due credit her departure. The prior chapters were obviously set while JJ was still in the BAU, between that time and the epilogue is when she left. I love her character, but after much debate I'm following her departure from the show to keep the story semi-up to date… in the Epilogue. The irony.

Warnings: Slash, adult themes

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon for beta'ing, and making me laugh, and to all reviewers who help keep me inspired.


"So how are they treating you?" Hotch queried as he reviewed a report submitted by Morgan. He scrunched his face, not at JJ's reply on the Department of Defense, but at the evil looking face doodled in the corner of the printed document. Frowning, he slide the document back into its folder, writing in large letters "Resubmit" on the file.

"Hey Hotch!" Reid called, bursting through the door of his study. Hotch turned, quickly covering the mouthpiece and mouthing JJ's name to Reid. Spencer blanched, covering his mouth.

"Hotch?" JJ asked quizzically from the other end.

"Ah, sorry, I'm still here," Hotch breathed some relief when the woman didn't comment on the additional voice that had entered the room. "So, I'll see you next weekend, workload permitting?"

"Yeah, just make sure to pass the word on. My house, six o'clock sharp. Will wants to make jambalaya, and I have so much to catch everyone up on!"

"Okay, I'll make sure to tell everyone tomorrow," Hotch smiled into the cell as Reid sneaked up behind him, wrapping two long arms around his neck and dropping an unmarked brown paper bag onto the desk. Turning dark eyes to look questioningly up at Spencer's amused grin, he decided that the brown haired man reminded him oddly of a cat.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," JJ chirped, far too happily for after nine p.m. "Oh, and tell Spence goodnight for me!" Hotch blanched, the line going dead as he looked into the device.

"What?" Reid asked at the more then usually blank expression on Aaron's face.

"Nothing," Hotch said, closing the phone. "JJ says goodnight." Reid's grasp about his neck unconsciously tightened.

"You don't think…?" Reid asked, though he didn't want to know the answer to that question. Hotch pulled back the arms that were threatening to choke him out if they drew any tighter.

"I'd rather not," Hotch returned the unspoken sentiment as he looked down at the brown bag blocking the view over his work load. "What's this?"

Opening the bag, Hotch flushed as he pulled out what appeared to be an economy size bottle of Astroglide. Under that lay several condoms, a karma sutra massage oil, and a bottle of red wine. "Reid?" He asked slowly, arching a brow up at his lover's "emergency errand" procurements.

"They say you should be extremely relaxed, and that it doesn't have to hurt, or that it shouldn't hurt if you take the proper precautions. They also recommended a minor consumption of alcohol," Spencer leaned over him, pointing out the bottle, "starting with a shower, a full massage, using condoms, of course, and this," His finger pointed to the Astroglide. "It's suppose to be the best one. They said to use a lot," Reid lifted the bottle from Aaron's hand, testing its weight. "I'm not sure how much 'a lot' is, but I'm not taking any chances."

"They? More research?"" Hotch asked as his throat went dry. Even though he'd asked, he wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer. Reid tapped a finger to his temple, smiling at the questioning eyes.

"Not more, just extensive. Eidetic, remember?" Spencer grinned, sliding his hands down and under Aaron's arms. "I have no intention of having you in pain when I take you," He grinned assuringly as he lifted the man, pulling him from his desk. Hotch opened his mouth to protest, not because Reid was collecting on his offer to bottom for the young doctor, but on the fact that there was work that still left unfinished on his desk.

"Shower first," Reid walked, pushed, Aaron from his den and down the hall.

"Shower?" Reid rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at the elder man. One long finger gestured to the pink flesh.

"The aliko sha phis," He sucked the tongue back in, giving up on trying to speak around it, "can be used as well. I haven't decided yet, but just in case. Yes, shower. Then I rub you down to relax your muscles. Oh, I need to pour the wine now if we're going to allow time for your body to absorb the alcohol into your blood stream." Reid turned back to the kitchen, leaving Aaron to cock his head questioningly at the mission-oriented man's departure.

Shrugging, Aaron went with it. It felt like Reid's research had somehow brought him across instructions for cooking a turkey, but he knew it was the thought that counted. Hotch wasn't about to turn down the offer for sex, even if he felt a little like an entrée, but if there was a turkey baster entering this scenario then he was putting his foot down.

Spencer was in the kitchen when he heard the faint noise of the shower turning on. Sighing, he ran over the instructions he'd read for the twenty-eighth time. He had gained more confidence in what he was going to do, but he still didn't want to leave any room for error.

Pulling two glasses down from the cabinet, he opened the bottle of wine. Spencer estimated just how much alcohol per body weight it would take Aaron to get a relaxed buzz. Stopping, he cocked his head in thought as he examined the glass. The estimation was rough because he didn't know Aaron's metabolism rate or how much would be absorbed by the contents of his stomach. Tipping in a bit more, he gave the rather full glass a nod. Better to error on the side of caution.

As he lifted the glass, a ringing cut through the silence of the house. The sound of the phone made Spencer jump, spilling the red liquid on the kitchen tiles. Setting down the glasses on the center island, he started for the phone and stopped.

Looking to the device hesitantly, he decided against the impulse to answer it. Instead, he went to the sink and retrieved a towel to wipe up the mess of red liquid. It was Hotch's landline. He shouldn't be answering it anyway.

That was probably the first time Spencer was annoyed with the secrecy he'd insisted upon. Over something as trivial as a phone call in the middle of the night. Who would call this late anyway?

Finished with cleaning the spill, he took the rag to the sink to rinse it out while the answering device beeped from the foyer. A woman's voice came across the silence when he turned off the faucet, and Spencer paused, listening.

"Agent Hotchner, this Maryland District Attorney Lisa Monroe. I'm sorry to call you at your home residence. There's a matter I would like to discuss with regarding an a death row inmate housed at the North Branch Correctional Institution … I'll try to reach you in the morning, but if you get this message, please call me as soon as you can~"

Reid listened curiously at the DA listed her phone number. It could be someone from his days working with a prosecutor, but it seemed too formal a message. She didn't say it was an emergency though, so maybe he didn't need to tell Hotch about it? Contemplating potentially ruining the night or ignoring the message, the shuffling of bare feet brought his attention back up.

"That was fast~" Reid blinked as Aaron Hotchner entered the kitchen, rubbing a towel over his head. He gave Spencer a mild shrug, explaining that this was technically his second shower for the evening. Reid was listening, sort of.

Hotch was dripping wet. A white towel wrapped loosely about his pelvis, the tone of his rectus abdominis, with water trickling down the line of his linea alba, with his pectoralis flexing while he rubbed the towel across his black hair and it was all just, well…

He already knew how nicely trimmed Aaron was, but he hadn't had much chance to appreciate a proper view which didn't have him pressed up into his boss' chest and abs when he was all … glisten-y?

That's not even a word! Spencer's brain screamed in terror at the loss of mental vocabulary in addition to the use of his auditory functions.

Hotch actually watched as intelligent thought vacated the genius. He ceased wiping down his hair, blinking as he dropped the towel over his shoulder. Reaching up to Spencer's hand, he pulled out the full glass of wine, downing it like a shot. The act drew some of beset man's brain back from the la-la land it had vacated off to.

"Hey! I know that you're aware that's not the proper way to drink~" Hotch gave Reid a cool glance, setting down the first glass and then downing the second one. "T-That was mine!"

"Um, hm," Hotch returned, setting the second drained glass by the first. Grabbing Spencer's hand, he pulling the younger man into him, panting a deep kiss before pulling him down the hallway. Hotch just hoped the massage would go as quickly as the wine had. He was all right before, but having Spencer look at him like, whatever the hell that had just been, had instantly diverted additional blood to his groin.

Reid forgot about the phone call, with every patch of water his shirt soaked off the body that kept pulling him in. Things were hard enough just trying to pull the twenty-ninth recitation of instructions through his head when Aaron was devouring him, to remember a phone call.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

~Friedrich Nietzsche


As mentioned in the summary, this is a story explaining how Hotch and Reid become Hotch/Reid. The end is more like a beginning, but this is the end of this story. Kudos to all, and I hope you had as much fun as I did writing this one. As promised I'll have the beginning of the case fic up soon.